Sunday, October 24. Imagine that every day you go to work, and someone calls you names, or trips you as you walk by when no one is looking. You are afraid to go the bathroom for fear that your harasser might follow you. When you leave at night, they grab your purse or briefcase and dump the contents on the floor. Maybe they even slap you around. You dread going to work, and you don’t tell anyone not even your spouse. All you feel is shame.
Who has not been saddened by the tragic suicides of bullied teen making headlines this week? Even the President of the United States has gone online to send a message to troubled youth: “It gets Better.” As Christians, we know this through our promise from God; things can turn around. We only have to look to the gospel for how to deal with bullying—from our peers and our families, young and old. Our second lesson this week spells it out: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” Here more about bullying and the prospect of a better future this Sunday at St. John.
On Sunday, Oct 18, Michael Fry will perform a violin recital at St. Johns. The show will feature works by Bartok, Kreisler, and Ysaye. Admission is by donation, with all proceeds going to Lutheran World Relief. Sunday, October 17th, at 7:30pm-8:15pm St. John Lutheran Church, 270 Crighton Ave
On a February afternoon in 1960 – 50 years ago now – four college students sat down at a lunch table where they were not allowed to sit. That time seems a piece of history right now – I imagine so even for those of us who were alive then. In an age of seemingly instant action and conversation, when every injustice, perceived or true, is immediately tweeted and every tragic death Facebooked in tribute, it must seem to our youth an awfully small thing to just sit down in a restaurant that doesn’t serve your kind. These four boys were black Americans, and they lived in the South, where segregation was the law, and if you were a certain colour you stood at the snack bar in the back because the seats were for white people. I was reminded of this story by a piece in The New Yorker this week, and it came back to me as I thought of this morning’s gospel, and the line that stuck with me especially: “We have done only what we ought to have done.”
This is a powerful line, an instruction for life, a fitting and honorable epitaph for a faith-filled existence. If we go to sleep each night able to say: 'I have done only what I ought to have done' – then we are living the gospel. If as a church, we can say this: 'We have … Continue reading Tomorrow’s sermon: Have I done only what I ought to have done?